A Glimpse (One Shot for Beyond Expectations Series)
by SimplierStories
Summary: A Story told from the viewpoint of Hogwarts professor, Minerva McGonagall. As she watches two of her students following in the footsteps of a couple that walked the halls almost twenty years ago.


Originally posted on Archive of Our Own

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Disclaimer, I do not own the right to any of the characters or the world of Harry Potter. That would belong to multi-millionaire J.K. Rowling and various publishers.

Generally, I write stories privately for myself, never really fanfiction either. I fell into fanfiction randomly one day, and I was looking for a specific story for and couldn't find it. I decided to change that.

Also, as I do write regularly in my spare time, I'm not likely to abandon this story if I do proceed. How annoying is an abandoned story? Leave a review or a comment if you'd like more.

Update: The I posted the long fic.

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Minerva sat at the head table as Flitwick spoke of some Hufflepuff whose work contributed to the wolfsbane potion but is rarely acknowledged. Typical Hufflepuff behaviour. She struggled to outwardly roll her eyes.

"-Ginny, it's time you got Madam Pomfrey. Your brother has officially gone bloody insane!" Minerva was distracted from Flitwick's incessant nattering by the flustered Gryffindor booming through the hall. Behind Ms Granger, trailed tiny cherub illusions, floating through the air and aiming arrows at her. The arrows vanished as they hit her shoulder in a plume of pink smoke. It was impressive magic. "End this, Ginny. No, stop smiling- it's not funny! These...these demons have been terrorising me - they won't stop!" she cried.  
A small cherub came to plant a kiss on the sizzling cheek of the ferocious Gryffindor. She growled, attempting to punch the toga wrapped angel. It giggled a bubbly noise, evading her swinging arms. Minerva stared at the Ravenclaw table to hide her smiling eyes. She'd no doubt which brother was responsible.

There was a small galleon pool running throughout the staff for the day Ms Granger would give in. Some predicted by Christmas, others by her fifth year and some had decided she was too stubborn. Hagrid was the exception, he predicted she'd date Ron. She loved all her young cubs, but Hagrid was barmy if he thought Ron was good enough for the bright witch. Yes, Fred was the source of a great many migraines and had cleared her potion cabinet of migraine potions regularly.  
Yet, he was exceptional in his own way. He was exceedingly clever, evident by his spell invention and potion mastery. If only he'd show such devotion in class, she bemoaned. She'd a weakness for the two twins and their antics. A sweet reminder of a time long gone. They were a joyous balm in times of uncertainty, lifting spirits with their amusing banter.

"Why, hello, Love O'Mione. How was potions, deary? You looked tired, shoulder to lie on? Cry on? Kiss till nigh' on?" said Fred, with a rueful grin. McGonagall fought her smile at the entrance of Fred Weasley as he sauntered to Ms Granger, ignoring her growling protests as he lay his head on her petite shoulder. Seeing the mischief-maker attempting to woo the bright muggleborn caused equal parts joy and pain in her heart. An echo of an era unaffected by the blood of war, clamping down on her heart.  
"When?" barked Hermione, pushing his head roughly from the cushion of her shoulder. He remained untroubled, smiling innocently at the small witch, towering above her in frame and height.

"When what, Sweetcheeks?" said Fred, attempting the swipes his finger along her youthful check, narrowly avoiding Hermione's clamping jaw.  
"When will you stop this... this... this Madness! I can't take another two years. I swear it, Weasley. I'm running out of patience, sanity and hexes, frankly!" The wee brunette pleaded.

"Easy, peasy, how your eyes do please me. Come to Hogsmeade with me. You can wave goodbye to the fat, flying babies with a nice butterbeer-" said Fred.  
"- Firewhiskey, if you're Gryff enough-" continued George, seamlessly.

"-in the other hand." ended Fred, a dazzling smile that would have burned Minerva's cheeks in her younger days. The brunette slumped in defeat, falling defeated into the seat next to her friend with a deflated moan. Sometimes Minerva felt as insane as Granger looked. Days past, and days present, melded so seamlessly together, her mind struggled to place memories in their correct order.

Sometimes their young faces morph. Hermione's wavy, chestnut brown hair, suddenly lengthens and flows straight, while colouring a fiery red. Golden eyes becoming greener than the rolling hills of Scotland. Fred's signature locks remain wild, adapting a muddled brown colour. A pair of wiry, gold-framed oval glasses adorning his nose. Sometimes, she seeks Harry's emerald eyes while Fred recited Shakespearean sonnets (a few entirely unrelated to love), dodging the Bat Boogey Hexes flying towards him.  
"You're barkers. Absolutely bloomin' barkers," sighed the petite witch. Collapsing onto the shoulder of her friend in commiseration.

"Absolutely bloomin' barkers for you, Love o'mione," said Fred, staunchly nodding his head, a familiar glint in his eye. It was two years of mild threats, mild jinxes and a few strong hexes, yet, he was still undeterred. Sometimes, his shoulders would fall as Hermione listed the reasons why she would rather kiss a dementor than Frederick Gideon Weasley. Not a minute later, he would propose marriage and promise curly-red headed children. As though she'd never implied death was a better fate. She was meant for him, created for him alone, she just didn't realise it yet.

Her friend, Ginny, struggled to hold her laughter, shaking slightly. A clear smile hid from the witch's peripheral vision. Minerva was infinitely better at doing so, her shoulders barely moving to the untrained eye. Hermoines stirred from her stupor, narrowing her eyes and straightening her back.

"Alright, Fred." She hissed, as the cherubs began to sing angelic melodies in unison.

"Alright?" Fred whispered, not daring to breathe.

"Alright. Fred." She confirmed with a long exhale.

"Sorry, I need to clarify. Alright, I'm Absolutely bloomin' barkers for you? Or alright, you'll come to Hogsmeade with me?" Questioned Fred slowly, not daring to hope. Minerva leaned forward, blatantly ogling the duo.

"The latter." the curly-headed with a nod. Minerva coughed, luckily, no eyes were on her.

"No, no - not good enough. Sorry - I don't want to push my luck but, I-I need the words, love." He said quickly, shaking his head in denial.

"I'll go to Hogsmeade with you." She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. Her face remained passive as if she had confirmed the date for the lovelorn boy.

"She said yes...She said... yes? " He whispered reverently and slowly. Confirming to his disbelieving mind, it happened. Fredrick Gideon Weasley did it. Minerva's smile was wide as Mr Weasley stumbled backwards, as though he'd been sucker-punched. George grabbed his twin as he stumbled backwards before he squished a small blonde Ravenclaw. He grabbed George by his face, laughing maniacally.

"She said yes, Georgie!" he roared, laughing throughout. Any eyes not on them were now gawking, an eery silence filling the hall. "She said yes!" he screamed for all to hear, as Hermione's ears tinged pink, as both school and staff looked on. Cutlery fell somewhere, snapping the tension within. It began then, with frenzied cheers and booming claps. Minerva would deny she had wolf-whistled. Fred was visibly alone in the hall, unaware of the shouts as he paced, face splitting apart in a grin. Suddenly, he rushed forward. Stumbling across the bench to reach her, grabbing her head and kissing her forehead fiercely."You-you said yes, 'Mione." He said, pulling away. Hermione squealed beneath him, entirely uncomfortable with the attention, a ghost of a smile on her placid lips.

"I've got to go - I've to plan, I've- George, Common room... Get Lee... Angelina too. Where's the Notebook? Oh, right, yeah. I've - I'm going." He scrambled for the bag he left, taking off in a sprint. Forgetting the request to end the floating cherubs cham, as they began to swirl around him instead. It was admittingly, more irritating than he'd thought it would be, judging by his face. No wonder it had taken two years.

The cherubs abandoned him with a swot from his bag, returning to their charge. He decided to end her suffering tonight as a reward. He turned back ready to deliver the counterspell, abolishing the little devils forever. Fred recited the practised spell with a triangular wand movement with a flourish. Vanquishing the small cherubs in a plume of pink smoke that dispersed throughout the hall. The scent of roses wafted throughout the Great Hall, as the smoke spread and enveloped each table. Rose petals fluttered lazily from the enchanted skies above.

Most days, the loss of loved ones hummed in the background of her mind. It was always there but the ache was not as fierce. Deafened with the passage of time. There were times, where every face of every lost love you'd known flashed before you. A Rolodex of searing pain, eardrums bursting at the memory of their energetic laughter. A noise that faded as time wore on, fading beyond recognition. You never know what would ignite the tumultuous tornado, always unexpected. Minerva's eyes burned with unshed tears as the wounds began to reopen. Lowering eyes, she stated at the wooden table before her, awaiting the end of the passing wind.

As a pearly pink petal fell upon her descended upon the desk, disrupting her grief-stricken moment. A wrinkled hand-stretched across her vision, delicately lifting the intrusive petal with pinched fingers. She looked up into the knowing eyes of the Hogwarts Headmaster, a timid smile as he inspected the petal cradling his palm.  
"I think, lilies would have been more appropriate, No?" said Albus.


End file.
